


A Curious Fish

by Rivenchu



Series: A ______ Fish [1]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: It worded itself, M/M, Merpeople exist, MintyFrosty AU, Read their tumblr and this just hopped into my head and needed to be written, the best kind of fic that just explodes out, there are obvious cultural differences, why am I bad at writing short things?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivenchu/pseuds/Rivenchu
Summary: They say curiosity is bad for a cat and it’s true for Merfolk too. Reginald was just curious about flotsam he saw during a storm. It was only natural to get a closer look. He didn’t mean to get stuck and he certainly didn’t mean to end up on dry land where none of his kind were allowed to go.
Relationships: Reginald Copperbottom/Right Hand Man
Series: A ______ Fish [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014693
Comments: 11
Kudos: 75





	A Curious Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for this AU goes to mintyfrosty on tumblr! Y'all should go see the lovely drawings she's done! Anyways read the Copperight Merfolk AU post and this whole fic popped into my head. Thankfully worded it out of my head and hope someone else gets a kick out of it too. :3
> 
> Thanks for letting me write it Minty~

A curious fish.

That's what everyone always called him. The elders always warned him to not be too curious, to not wander close to dry land, and more importantly never get near the the floating crafts that skimmed over the ocean. Remaining unseen from 'dry landers' was the safest choice for their colony.

He'd listened and never done any of those things, but.

_But._

They never said anything about parts of the sailing ships.

Reginald watched the long stick and strange white flaps with it's many tentacles. The storm had ripped it off the adrift vessel and he followed it. It was alone, none of the beings on it (he never could see them well from a safe distance, they were a mystery) or were nearby... long as he watched out for the tentacles he'd be fine.

Making up his mind he swam up to the far side and broke the surface. It was night time, and the stars were blotted out by the storm. The rain didn't bother him, though he always wondered why it tasted different than regular water. No one in the colony could answer him when he asked.

Reaching out he marveled at the texture. Slippery with strange bumps, but not slimy at all. Drifting closer he blinked at a hole and poked at it, had it been carved in? There were more leading up. Wandering further Reginald craned his neck to see how far they went. He couldn't see the end of the giant stick, but he almost could.

Just a little further.

Something curled around his tail.

Fear coiled like an eel as he ducked back underwater. He'd strayed too far up the stick.

Just one tentacle, he could handle that. Everything would be fine.

Diving deeper so the stick wouldn't hit him (storms made the ocean surface move so much), he unwound the coarse limb and sighed. That had been close. He should go.

Turning to look up at the strange object one last time, he could barely see it against the dark surface. He had wanted to look at it more, maybe if he had climbed on it he could have spent longer studying it.

Something brushed his shoulder. Jerking back Reginald's eyes widened. It was the connected multi-tentacle net. He hadn't gone that far had he? Was it the storm pushing it faster than he thought?

Twisting around he began to swim fast as possible back to the safety of the depths.

For a moment Reginald thought he made it.

He screamed as agony shot up his tail, swimming stalled. He floated dazed for a few seconds before the adrenaline kicked back in.

Wincing he glanced up at his tail, tangled again, worse this time. Reaching over to yank at it he wished he didn't leave his cutter tool at home. This one was tighter, it wanted to hold. Sticking out his tongue to loosen the cord and ignore the pain he tried to work fast.

It wasn't fast enough.

He froze when he felt his back brush up against something. Looking up he realized he was drifting towards more tentacles. His tail seized up and refused to move with anything less than blinding agony.

Reginald was many things, witty and clever, curious and mischievous, but he was not known for his bravery.

Terror dulled the pain as he thrashed against the cursed coils drawing him in. He knew they weren't alive, but he could still die to them.

No one came when he called for help as the storm blew him further away from home.

Dread settled in as he grew tired. There was no way he could escape now. He was entanged and his tail hurt worse than before. He was drifting to the dry lands. Memories of the horror stories the elders told drifted across his mind.

They'll take you from the ocean to never return. They'll keep you in a water bubble to stare at you. They will never listen to you, we're just fish to them. They ate all kinds of fish up on the dry lands.

Reginald shivered and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have wandered.

~*~*~*~

That was a storm to remember. Lots of trees were down, roads were a mess, and he'd have a few days of solitude. There was much more in damages, but he didn't care enough to look into it unless he was getting paid.

Right didn't mind he liked being alone. It's why he lived out of the city and did whatever odds and ends he could to keep food on the table.

Like combing the beach for anything interesting washing up after a storm. He'd find some nice lost cargo to sell a few times and made a habit of checking.

He walked around a boulder and raised his eyebrows at a partially beached broken mast. Bad news for whatever ship it was formerly attached too. There were no boxes nearby, but he could get some use out of it surely.

Walking over he rested one foot on the mast so he could rest his elbow on his knee as he surveyed the debris. Sails seemed intact, he could sell those. Wood and rope he could keep for himself, the rope ladder could be repurposed into a net.

Not a bad find.

Nodding to himself he set to work wading into the surf at cutting a sail free. Yanking it it up to dry land he folded it up and put it in his sack. Halfway done he walked the the next and cut the top connection off.

...was that hair?

Oh, he sometimes found dead bodies too. Or bits of them. He buried any... partials and brought intact ones to the city. If it helped someone find peace, it was worth it even if he didn't get paid.

Grimacing he knelt down and lifted the sail higher.

A wave washed up to his shins and Right sighed. No reaction to the wave, no cough or sputter to show they were alive. As the water pulled back he reached down and rested a hand against the corpse's forehead. Wasn't warm, definitely dead.

New plan, use sail as temporary corpse barrier.

Cutting the last sail connection and some additional rigging he hefted the body in front of him and walked back to the beach. He was going to stop by his house first for a bite to eat. Hopefully the mast would still be around when he got back, but the less bodies were left around the better for everyone's sense of smell.

Strange he wasn't getting a whiff of decay, must have been recent.

Trekking through the woods he was familiar with he tilted his head. There was strange sound following him. If he didn't know better he would say it was someone struggling to breathe. Wildlife wouldn't get close enough to him to make that noise, there were no injured animals nearby and he was keeping company with a dead person.

It moved.

Right paused. He'd been sure the poor soul was dead but dead things don't usually move.

Swearing he broke into a jog glad he lived nearby. There was a first aid kit he could use if there was a chance of saving a survivor.

Throwing open the door he lowered the person to the floor and threw the sail off.

...

...what?

...

It had brown hair, frills on it's arms, moving gashes on it's neck, and a full blown fish tail from the waist down. The bright purple caught his attention as he stared down the length ending in the wash of warm colors fins.

It'd gotten caught in the ropes, some digging in painfully from the missing scales and red skin. Fish. No wonder it had been fine in the surf, any higher and it would have been dead already.

Movement caught his eye as it reached up to it's throat fluttering it's brown eyes open.

Fish, water. Fish die out of water. Oh he made a mistake. Oh he didn't want to kill it. Oh no he wasn't near any ponds or rivers.

Scooping up the not-corpse he kicked open his bathroom and dumped it into his bathtub. In preparation of the storm he had filled it just as a precaution. Hopefully whatever fish it was could handle freshwater or else he just commited an accidental murder.

Staggering back to lean against the doorway he ran a hand up the side of his face and knocked his hat off. He'd heard stories of merpeople, never believed them of course. It seemed silly that fish people would exist but there was one right in his _bathtub_.

~*~*~*~

Gulping down water Reginald wanted nothing more than the curl up. His tail hurt so much, why did it feel like it was out of water? And the... water tasted funny, like rain does? He surrounded by white?

Pushing himself up with his one free elbow he looked up. The water wasn't deep, he didn't have much room to either side of him. He still had the coils trapping him. Slowly he turned over and pulled his tail into the different tasting water.

This wasn't the ocean, but maybe it was close by? He had heard of things called beaches that had small water pools.

Reaching up the smooth wall he felt air and curled his hand around the edge and pulled himself up to look around.

It was mostly brown, bit of red on a normal looking face, but it was just there on dry land. It was on dry land. It was a dry lander. Pushing back as far he could in the tub Reginald screamed.

Dry lander made a noise and fell out of the room.

Reginald screamed again.

He was tired, hungry, in pain, and trapped. No matter what angle you looked at it from, this was bad. He was never going to get away now. Looking around the room he swallowed, was this where they kept fish for awhile?

Actually... he didn't want to look right now.

Sinking back into the water he curled in the corner as much as he could and trembled. He... wasn't going to get out of this was he?

~*~*~*~

Clutching his chest, Right wheezed. That was far louder than he expected, not that he had an idea of what to expect from a mythical creature in his bathroom. He jerked away from the bathroom door at the second screech.

Well, he wasn't going to town now. Not sure what to do. Guess he could fold up the sail, that was something he could do while his brain was reeling from his new discovery.

Merpeople existed. Science types would love to study it, nobles would want to showcase it, and who knows what criminals would do to it. If he was being practical two of those options would pay very very well for a rarity like that.

Right sat down on the floor staring at the folded sail.

It didn't seem right. There had been fear on it's face, and if he thought about it that was a fair reaction. Waking up in a strange place with someone staring at you would spook anyone. Plus it was still tangled up.

That he could help with.

Grabbing a knife he stared at it, on the other hand he'll look pretty scary. Nothing new there, people found him intimidating even if he was minding his own business.

Intentions would get across when it realized it wasn't getting stabbed. Better be quick.

Stalking into the room he winced at expected scream but didn't stop. "Not gonna hurt ya." He wasn't sure why he spoke or even if it would understand, but he hoped the tone would help soothe it.

It didn't believe him, eyes widening more as it turned to flee out the tub when he got closer. What it hoped to accomplish beyond that was questionable considering the lack of water.

"No you don't." Reaching over he caught a rope and pulled it back over the tub. He took a deep breath as he heard distressed whimpers. It couldn't reach him with it's free arm.

He felt guilty for trying to help now. Maybe he should have waited, but he was committed now.

" 'm just gonna cut the ropes." he sighed and started to saw carefully. He didn't want to injure it if it made any sudden movements. Instead it hung there defeated, which he decided was worse. 

When the rope snapped it fell back into the tub and he stepped back just in case it attacked. Cornered beings tended to be unpredictable and fierce.

Instead the brown eyes broke surface and stared at him. Scanning.

Yeah, bit smarter than an animal, they would have gone back to panic. This was questioning and uncertain.

" 'm gonna cut some in front. Yah should be able t' get most of it off unless it's on there good." Right stood there and watched for a reaction. Maybe it didn't speak, that would make sense. Different culture and.. talking mediums? How would someone talk underwater?

Walking back up to the tub Right paused to see if it would try to flop out in fear again.

It was just warily watching.

Reaching down slowly Right watched for any sudden movement - he didn't want to get bit or hit with that tail.

Grabbing a knot he lifted it out of the water so he could better look at the mess. It was actually impressive how it managed to tie itself up. A cool grip on his hand caused him to look up as it lightly held his wrist and it bit it's lip. Understandably nervous, but he had ropes to cut.

This time when he cut through and it dropped back into the water he walked to the far side of the room to put the knife down. Space while it worked itself free.

Water sloshed over the edge in the next five minutes as it worked to freedom. Finally a mass of ropes was thrown over the edge, with a single line running back to the tub.

Before he could say anything the vibrant tail shakily waved out of the water, the last rope tangled near the base of fins. Grimacing Right walked forward to look at it. That would leave a scar, maybe the back fin would heal.

Fetching his knife he reached out almost touching the tail before looking down. It was watching him again. Taking this as an affirmative he lightly grasped the tail and started making small cuts. The rope was wound tight and the wound already painful, he didn’t want to make it worse.

After a few minutes the rope fell away and he let go of the tail. It sunk out of sight and the merperson stayed submerged. Fair, poor thing had a rough time of it lately.

Gathering the rope he walked out and left the knife in his sink. Sitting down he ate an apple as he pondered his new situation. He had an injured merperson in his house. He had helped it after almost killing it by dragging it away from water.

Merpeople were _real_ and he had one in his _bathtub still_. That was still a hard fact to wrap his brain around.

~*~*~*~

Laying at the bottom of the white shell Reginald rubbed his freed right arm. He was glad to be free of the deadly coils, but his tail was still painful. He was still stuck, but the dry lander hadn't hurt him. It could have done so easily.

He was still alive. Plus he felt pain down to his fins, so it wasn't as bad as one of the elders who couldn't move their tail anymore nor feel it. It would heal in time.

Wrapping fingers around the edge of container he pulled himself up and looked around. There were so many things he knew nothing about. What were they used for? Did all dry landers live in places like this?

Crossing his arms on the edge Reginald rested his head as he let his mind wander with questions.

The dry lander stopped at the door and was staring at him. There was something he was dragging behind him. Looked like three sticks with a flat surface on top, about half the height of the dry lander. 

Pulling his arms back into the water he blinked up at the other curious. The brown layers were strange and moved funny, like a covering? Why would they need a covering?

"Not sure if you'll like smoked fish, but thought yo might be 'ungry." Walking in the dry lander held out a fish within easy grabbing distance.

He was starving. Taking the fish he sighed, he... was being rude. The other had done nothing but help him and deserved a proper response.

"Thank you." He missed the stunned expression on the dry lander's face as he tore into the funny smelling fish. The flavour was concentrated with something he had never tasted before! What had been done to it? 

"Y-you're welcome." Taking a seat on the stool the dry lander still looked dazed at the new discovery. Merpeople could talk. 

"Uh... want another?" A second fish was offered.

"Please." Accepting the fish it disappeared as quickly as the first.

"My name is Right." He held out a hand to his formerly-mythic-but-totally-real guest.

Glancing down at the extended hand then back up Reginald held out his hand with a tentative smile, "Reginald, it's nice to meet you Right."

Of course a merperson wouldn't know about shaking hands. A smile crept up on Right's face, "It's good to meet you too Reginald."

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know if you liked it~


End file.
